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<title>I regret the existence of my reflection by Foggedlamp</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093607">I regret the existence of my reflection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foggedlamp/pseuds/Foggedlamp'>Foggedlamp</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Messing with the Marauders [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>How Do I Tag, Original Fiction, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:29:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foggedlamp/pseuds/Foggedlamp</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Calla hasn't seen her own reflection in a very long time, and she wishes she hadn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Messing with the Marauders [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I regret the existence of my reflection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>  Calla genuinely couldn't remember the last time she look at her reflection properly, like sure, passing by windows of shops and staring down at the water while sitting at the shore gave her moments of eye contact with herself, but she never observed. It was always a quick glance, a small joking wink directed towards herself.</p><p> But now that she took the time to look in the mirror after 3 years... <strong>She looked awful.</strong></p><p>Who would've thought she could change so much during 3 years, yet in some mysterious way, stay absolutely the same. I mean, <em>sure</em>, the fact that she was an elf definitely played some part in it, but most elves would still look slightly different, maybe their hair would become darker or lighter, or their eyes would dull. But no, she looked mostly the same, the only difference being the washed out dye in her hair as well as some very small  scars.</p><p> She would spend almost an hour staring at her reflection trying to find other changes, any proof she was no longer the person she used to be. Yet the closest she came to finding a difference was the strand of hair that had migrated to the other side of her hairline, and like 2 or 3 gray hairs. She looked the same... No diffirence, no change....</p><p> To say that she was in denial would be a massive lie, cause she proceeded to stare herself down, finding barely any of her own quirks, like a new tattoo that had appeared overnight, or heavy dark circles under her eyes. Maybe her hair had gotten a shade lighter?</p><p>
  <em>"I really doubt it...."</em>
</p><p> What the fuck? Who the fuck did she hear just now?</p><p> She immediately looked around the half empty room, her hands gripping onto the edges of the table in front of the mirror, her knuckles turning white and her fingers getting pricked by poorly sanded parts of the wooden piece of furniture.</p><p>"Hello? Is anyone here..? Silvyr, was that you?" She asked aloud, hoping to at least hear a quiet humm for a response. But it was completely silent, the only thing she could hear was the sound of the boat rocking and creaking on the waves... Everything was calm and quiet, it was meant to be like that. The crew had gotten quiet tired over the past few days, so most of them are definitely still sleeping.</p><p> The only person restlessly wandering about was Calla....</p><p> </p><p> She would let out a sigh. Her brain is simply messing with her, no one was awake, nothing was happening, and her looking diffirent shouldn't be as concerning to her as it is at the moment. So turning her bead back at the mirror and blinking at it for a couple of seconds, something didn't add up.</p><p>
  <strong>That wasn't her in the reflection </strong>
</p><p> What she was instead seeing was her mother, her long hair still pulled into a bun as she remembers from before she left, and her midnight blue noble dress still looking as clean as ever. And fuck, she hated seeing it, hated seeing her mother, her emotions boiled up within an instant and her reflexes got the better of her.</p><p>
  <em>C r a c k</em>
</p><p> It took her a moment to realize what she did, but once the pain settled in the context of the situation was quite hard to miss. The mirror was shattered, her fist dripping with rose red liquid that slowly dripped down her arm. The shards scattered about the table and floor as the reflection , now back to normal, looked distorted. The cracks splitting her  appearance into sections.</p><p> Fuck, she needs to go clean this up and then rest.</p><p> Turning around and heading for the door, she'd look back and mutter to herself:</p><p> "<strong>I didn't like seeing it anyways...."</strong></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>- F I n</strong>
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